Good point, thought Macken. Better get on with it. The other man seemed to be thinking the same way.
‘Never mind who any of us are. You’re not the bailiff, and you can see we’re not either.’ The bigger man seemed eager to resolve the stand-off.
‘We just came for a quiet bit of fishing. You’ve been luckier than us. Let’s shake hands and leave it at that.’
Macken pushed into the man’s back as hard as he dared, without snapping the stick.
‘There’ll be no handshaking nor backslapping with a pair of creeping thieves. You can keep your rods, but I’ll blast the first one to look back.
‘Now get off. I’m covering you and listening, so make noise as you go.’
‘Alright, if that’s the way of it.’ The big man seemed to be regaining confidence with every second. ‘Perhaps we’ll run into each other again.’ The threat gained power from the pleasant tone in which it was delivered. Macken marvelled at the man’s self-control. ‘Go before I change my mind about letting you keep your gear. My trigger finger is getting itchy.’
‘Alright, Billy?’ Cedric wanted to hear from the man who usually issued the orders.
‘Shut it! Come on then. We’re off.’
Both men crashed through the bushes out of sight. Macken darted behind a tree to avoid being silhouetted if they looked back. He listened to their cursing progress as their sounds dwindled through the forest.
CHAPTER 5
Once he was satisfied the intruders were gone, Macken broke into a fit of shivering. Adrenalin had carried him through, but now he was freezing. Time to warm up.
Just then, he heard a quiet, but unmistakeable sound of movement from the undergrowth close by. Macken stood completely still, then very slowly turned to investigate. It was coming from low down. He began to breathe again. Some animal, disturbed by their conversation. He stretched out the stick to poke amongst the leaves.
‘Why don’t YOU hold it there?’
Macken recoiled from this new voice, stunned that he’d missed a third intruder, better concealed than the others. He heard a dull slap from the bushes.
‘You make quite the picture,’ said the disembodied voice. ‘Though I don’t know how anyone could ever capture it with you shaking all over the place. Boy with stick, I suppose you would call it.’
Macken turned to the voice, a woman’s voice.
‘Mmm, man with stick, then. Well, I suppose it is pretty cold this morning.’
Macken peered into the gloom and saw the third intruder he had missed. Peering back at him was an amused female face, framed by a cascade of curls loosely wrapped in a scarf. Macken could still detect faint sounds of movement, a small animal scratching, though the woman herself was still.
‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’ barked Macken at last – angry with himself for being caught out.
‘Now, hold on.’ She slapped the side of the suitcase on which she was sitting, as if to emphasise her objection. This time, whatever had been making the scratching sounds stopped. ‘You burst in on me,’ she continued. ‘I was just sitting waiting for daybreak.’
‘You were what?’
‘Oh, you know,’ she opened her hands. ‘A bit of early morning landscape sketching.
‘But if you insist, I could try for something more classical. ‘Adonis at Dawn Bathe’. How does that sound?’
She raised her right hand and made an L shape with a finger and thumb, like two sides of a frame. As she squinted through at him, Macken thought she had completely lost the plot, until he suddenly remembered…
‘Jesus!’ He made a panic-stricken dive for his clothes, to peals of her laughter.
‘I was only joking about the effects of the cold. You were fine the way you were.’
‘Give me a moment to get decent,’ Macken muttered, pulling on his uniform.
‘Oh, it’s a policeman!’ This revelation seemed to send her off even worse than before. ‘I should have realised. Sure didn’t you show me your truncheon?’
It was no good, Macken couldn’t keep a severe face after that. His dignity marginally restored by his clothes, he stepped over for a closer look.
‘I apologise for startling you and for my display. I thought I was alone,’ he said. ‘Is it always this busy round here?’
She was still chuckling.
‘I admit I really was impressed back then. No, not with that. I mean the way you handled your stick.’
And she was off again.
‘Sorry. Give me a minute… God, I never imagined this morning would be so – so exhilarating. Who are you anyway? You’re clearly not on poaching patrol.’
‘I’m on my way to Blackwatertown. I’ve just been transferred.’
‘You’re lost, then?’
‘I was just taking in some peace and quiet before reporting for duty. A chance to think. Or to not think, you know?’
She smiled at him again – a gentler smile. ‘Yes. I do know.’
Macken blinked. He did not know her from Adam, but she was easy to talk to. A shadow passed over her, but it was fleeting, and he saw past her bravado to her beauty.
‘This is unfair. You know everything about me,’ said Macken. ‘Far more than I usually reveal on a first acquaintance.’ Macken had been about to say first date, but stopped himself in time. What on earth was he thinking? ‘But I know nothing about you. What’s your name for starters?’ She tapped the suitcase underneath her again, as if marking a decision, and stood up.
‘Aoife Penny is my name. How do you do?’
She held out her hand most politely. Macken hesitated, repeating her name to himself the soft way she said it. ‘Eee-faa’. Then he shook her hand.
‘Good morning to you too, Aoife Penny.’
She giggled.
‘You looked like you weren’t sure whether to shake it, kiss it or jump back in fright. Goodness, you’ve got cold hands. Let me give them a rub. You know what they say, don’t you?’
‘What do they say?’
‘Cold hands, warm heart. I’m not sure what other body parts that works for.’
Macken raised his eyes to heaven, getting used to her now.
‘How long have you been here?’
